


Three Small Explosions: A Theory by Dr. W. Burkle

by smolder



Category: Angel: the Series, Big Bang Theory, Men in Black (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolder/pseuds/smolder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh god, here she was butt-naked in a dirty alleyway in who-knows-where, laughing like a loon. She had finally completely lost it. About damn time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue in Blue

She decided to take a stance and say she hated alleyways.

Or, she would be saying that if she wasn’t curled up on what seemed to be the extremely dirty ground shivering uncontrollably. Completely naked.

Yup.

Couldn’t forget that. Couldn’t forget _the feeling of her fist easily passing through the Warlocks head, he deserved much worse for her Wesley’s death._

Her hands formed claws in her hair and she bit her lip, she didn’t know whether she was trying to control the memories or the tears. It didn’t matter because she lost either way and her body shook more in its fetal position as the memory _of towering over her army of minions who both loved and feared her. She could crush a whole section of them with one of her blue tentacles purely on a whim and they would still follow her, their God King Illyria._

Fred swallowed hard and carefully untangled her shaking hands from her hair and looked at them carefully flexing them in front of her face.

No blue. She let out a relieved breath that turned into a hiccupping laugh. That turned into laughing uncontrollably when she realized how similar her actions were to when a certain blue Old One set up shop.

Oh god, here she was butt-naked in a dirty alleyway in who-knows-where, laughing like a loon. She had finally completely lost it.

About damn time.

The thought, however true only served to make her laugh harder. But living in a cave a hell dimension, working for a supernatural detective agency, “dying” by way of having your insides liquefied for the resurrection of an Old One, being trapped in your own body and having to watch while all of your friends self-destructed, your Wesley dies, and finally _they were being overwhelmed. The alleyway was an easily defensible location but the demons outnumbered her group hundreds to the one. As she stepped on the back and removed the spine of a particularly mucus covered demon she saw her Pet take a hit out of the corner of the eye. With deadly accuracy she threw the spine skewering his bull like opponent though the head and giving him time to get up. He gave her a cocky smirk of thanks before jumping back into the fray. She however, was frustrated. They were not winning. If only she were not limited to this shell. Wesley had limited her to this shell for safety, but that mattered little now. She ignored the sickening, almost human emotions that she should not be able to have and continued her thought as she almost absentmindedly kicked one demon’s knee out while ripping out a vampire’s throat. With his death, and the way magic affected her due to her nature his spell might corrode over time. How much time needed post mortem was debatable, but there was only one way to find out. Illyria smirked._

 _The world exploded in blue._

Fred was still shivering, giggling, and crying to herself when the proper authorities found her, ten minutes later.


	2. The Proper Authorities

  
Her nails dug into his arm as he led her across the campus. He bit back a sigh, they had come a long way but he wasn’t sure if this was the best idea. However, the higher ups had made the decision and she would go anywhere he took her without complaint.

When he had asked her about her instant trust in him her answer had been surprisingly uncomplicated.

 _“You have kind eyes,” she said solemnly and paused a moment, “plus, I’m crazy.” She gave him a slightly too wide smile._

 _Since he was helping her get cleaned up (she’d had a panic attack from what he had identified as the royal blue color of the nurses scrubs and wouldn’t let anyone else but him see to her) after they had found her naked in an alleyway where they had pinpointed a massive amount of energy being released and the tearing of dimensional walls, he had decided not to argue._

Later when she told them more about her life he was glad he hadn’t.

After he had questioned her and reported to Zed, there had been a discussion on how to proceed. They dealt with aliens; this situation, oddly enough, was slightly out of their usual purview but there was no one else to deal with it. Not in this dimension at least.

The final decision, as it always seemed to be in the MIB when anybody had trouble dealing with things, was that she was to be neuralyzed and then set up with a new life. This was purportedly the kindest thing to do for the “damaged young woman” so she could start up a life without all of the horrible memories. He knew from experience though that you couldn’t really take someone’s memory away completely, there would always be that deep feeling of wrongness. Part of you always just knew. He tried to fight against the ruling but eventually the best he could do was refuse to do it to her himself.

Sometimes he wonders why MIB can’t just invest and get some good shrinks in the program.

Naturally it went badly; the neuralyzer had a truly bizarre effect on her. At the flash of the light her eyes became blue and she became very stiff and agitated. She threw the Agent in charge of the memory wipe across the room before crumpling to the ground clutching her head.

He had a concussion and two broken ribs, one of which came very close to puncturing his lung. And that was because he was lucky and the agents here were taught how to fall in order to incur the least amount of damage while being thrown by a far stronger opponent.

Useful skill. Comes up far more often than one would think.

Since the neuralyzer didn’t work on her their options were truly limited for what to do with a genius from another dimension who had gone through repeated mental traumas. But she had already lived in too many prisons throughout her life and he wasn’t about to subject her to another one even if it was supposedly for her own good. And living in a room of a building that was fronted by the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority ventilation station with nothing to do but be trapped in your own memories and the memories of a being older than mankind could easily become as much of a prison as a cave in a hell dimension.

Or your body while it was being controlled by a Primordial Demon.

 _He walked down the hall in the residential section to her room the day after she had accidentally attacked the other Agent. He didn’t place any blame on her for the incident and was frankly more pissed off at Zed for even trying it to begin with and quite a bit worried for her. She had seemed quite shaken by the incident._

 _She didn’t answer the knock at the door. After trying again, he simply opened it; the doors weren’t the sort that locked from the inside._

 _“Ms.Burkle….” he began, but stopped. She was crouched on the floor, writing on the wall, muttering to herself occasionally. One of her walls was already completely filled and another was about 2/3 the way there. There was a ripped open partially empty multi-pack of dry erase markers on the floor._

 _He wondered idly how she had gotten a hold of them._

 _Carefully stepping closer he examined the wall she wasn’t working on. The math was an impressive ways above his head but interspersed within the equations were diagrams, words, and stick figure drawings. He thought some of the words were latin but dry erase markers and quick writing don’t make for the clearest of translations. He felt more sure that one of the picture is of a man and woman riding a horse. Although he isn’t quite sure what the man is since he has clearly drawn fangs in red marker._

 _Abandoning the wall, he turned back to the person to which the wall and inscriptions belonged._

 _Slowly he crouched next to her but she never even glanced at him. He looked over to what her hand was manically writing._

 _Listen. Listen. Listen._

 _She had written it for a good two feet of the wall already and showed no sign of stopping. “Ms. Burkle,” he began again placing a hand gently on her arm. She startled, which he had expected and skittered backwards her back hitting an, as of yet, clean wall as she clutched her green marker protectively._

 _“Fred”, he tried a third time. She simply stared at him blankly for a few seconds, her eyes lost and body defensive, before launching herself into his arms and clutching him desperately._

 _“There isn’t going to be a click is there?” she whispered nonsensically into his shoulder. He simply held her and stoked her hair._

When the tech guys came in and studied her work they were impressed. It “showed very high understanding of the sciences for a human mind”. But then again their tech guys weren’t exactly human.

He didn’t know if it was her obvious vulnerability that pulled at a part of him or her Texan twang that made him nostalgic. But he continued to spend time with her and it seemed to fill a hole that was left when Laura was forced to leave Earth. A hole he hadn’t even been aware was there.

So, while Zed tried to come up with a Plan B for their resident genius who would occasionally have flashbacks and write on walls, he tried to take her outside of her current cave/prison once in a while.

And that in turn helped to take her out of her head a bit. Sometimes it was just to the cafeteria for lunch or people watching at the Terminal.

He always quite enjoyed the fascination she got from listening to him tell her about the different aliens that caught her eye. Quite often she would go off on her own story about similar demons she had encountered. One significant time her body language had become stiff and she had told a six minute anecdote about encountering a race of slime based demons and, how after they had denied to become part of her army she had slaughtered them all and stacked their remains as a demonstration to all who would oppose her. After the story was finished Fred couldn’t stop shaking.

That was a bad day.

But, there were good days as well.

Days were she was doing particularly well and he was able to take her out of the building. Drive her to the museum, or out to a field in the middle of nowhere, a restaurant, anywhere away really. Armed with an emergency notepad and pens in case a memory was triggered and she had to get lost in the equations, and they were set.

That’s why he’s pretty sure this is partially his fault. If Fred and him hadn’t gotten so good at as she put it, “workin’ around my special brand of crazy and making it seem normal” everyone wouldn’t think they could pull this off.

He knows MIB has the technology to set her up with a foolproof identity, that’s not the problem. He also knows that she’ll never run into problems with bosses, not only because she is brilliant but because they make sure everybody knows it isn’t in their best interest to mess with Dr. Burkle who has unknown but very deep mysteriously acronym-d pockets behind her.

The problem he runs into is Fred, living and working alone on a college campus.

Not that she would be truly alone, there would always be someone with an eye on her. She was important to MIB, to more than just him. As a possible future recruit but also, he knew, as a possible adversary.

But he cared more about the fact that she would be across the country from him, even if he did have the Ford POS (Piece of Shit) as J so wonderfully called it. He worried that without someone to continually pull her out of her room she would just make yet another cave for herself. He worried she might have an episode and revert back to Illyria. He worried she would have a hard time making friends with the limited amount of information she could tell people without them thinking she was crazy.

She turned to him suddenly and hugged him unabashedly. “I’ll miss you K.”

He sighed, used to the random hugging by now and stroked her hair, “I’ll be around kid, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Fred looked up at him and smiled a bit too wide but didn’t say anything.

Maybe everyone was right and CalTech would be good for her, the first day of school was always the hardest on the parent after all.


	3. Chapter 2: The Hot Mad Scientist of CalTech

  
“But what does she do?”

“I heard she was a physicist.”

“What discipline?”

“I don’t know. She is hot though.”

“She tasered you Howard, she’s crazy. Although, I suppose she’s more crazy for the writing on walls thing, it’s not the first time a girl has tasered Howard.”

“She’s still hot. “

“Are you sure she’s a physicist, I thought she was an engineer.”

“Why?”

“I saw her working on something, looked like a catapult weapon of some kind.”

“Or maybe it makes toast.”

“And what’s up with the guys in suits always hanging around? Do you think she’s a government spy and the whole crazy hot scientist thing is just a cover? Like Sydney Bristow?”

Sheldon stood up abruptly from the lunch table. “I’m leaving. I am finding your incessant prattle more grating than usual. Besides, Sydney Bristow’s cover wasn’t as a scientist it was as an office assistant at a corporate bank.”

With that he carefully disposed of the trash left over from his meal, quickly disinfecting his hands afterwards. Then he walked down the hall to his office, and past it. As he had done for the past twenty two workdays after lunch.

  
 _Sheldon hated reviews. He understood the point of them, to weed out the subpar from the workforce. But for a person of his level of intelligence to have to sit in a chair with a poor cushion and defend his work ethic, himself, and his science to someone like Gablehauser. It was beyond galling._

 _But he completed the task and even managed not to blatantly insult the glorified high school teacher because he knew his mother would be very very angry with him if she had to come back here and help him get his job back._

 _Again._

 _As he angrily stalked back to his office, 14 minutes already gone from his schedule he turned a corner and found a woman writing on the walls of the hallway of the campus with a sharpie._

 _Already angry, he started to storm up to her a rant about graffiti already on his lips when exactly what was on the wall caught his eye._

 _He paused and looked it all over, the hastily written treatise and notes, the equations. She was mapping out a form of chaos theory as applied to molecular vibrations. He watched oddly fascinated as she drew the elliptical intersecting diagram that often caused the theory to be nicknamed by those of lesser intelligence the butterfly effect. These were almost always plotted on the computer, too many variables to accurately draw out by hand; but her hand was steady even if her eyes were dazed._

 _He knew who she was now, Dr. Winifred Burkle. Before her arrival there had been an extremely uninformative e-mail sent out causing pointless speculation throughout the college. Once she arrived, the gossip exploded even more to a point that annoyed Sheldon and he felt, negatively affected the other’s efficiency at work._

 _The e-mail had simply stated that CalTech was lucky to get a mind of her caliber and that everyone was to make her feel welcome by leaving her alone to get settled in. That in itself was odd, but even more so was the fact that there was no indication as to what her schooling or prior experience was or what she was to be doing at the college. When he and others inquired further they were firmly turned away by superiors. Those who dug more were turned away by men in black suits._

 _Gossip and firsthand accounts, despite their inherent inaccuracy were the only information he had to go on this woman. He had heard from many people about her habit of writing on walls which lead many to call her crazy. Sheldon had thought this rather unfair at the time since he knew that when caught up on an important idea sometimes you can’t be bothered by something as trivial as running out of space on your whiteboard. He could easily see how this could be taken further to simply putting science above wherever you might be, since if you lost the idea the world might be at a loss, was that really not worth a new coat of paint. It was all about priorities and science, in his mind, should always be on top._

 _The talk that often went back to her appearance, was always disregarded by him as unimportant and baffling. Besides, when Hofstadter attempted to flirt with her, interrupting her work in the process, she had tasered him. A swift brutal response to which Penny had heartily approved when she had heard._

 _Many had also said that she was brilliant, giving her the nickname “Hot Mad Scientist”, attempting to be witty he supposed by playing off both definitions of mad. But he had disregarded the claim since some people thought that Kripke was brilliant._

 _Now as he followed the ovals she made in red with his eyes he realized he might need to revise his initial assessment._

 _Her hand slowed and stopped before lowering to her side. She stared straight ahead and then started shaking her breath coming hard._

 _Sheldon simply stared for a moment; he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just leave her, she could be having a seizure or a panic attack and it went against his upbringing to ignore a damsel in distress. But at least the last time this had happened, when Penny had been hurt, he had already known her and had at least some knowledge as to what her reactions to certain situations might be. As much as you could with someone as unfathomable as Penny, knowing her she probably had yet to purchase any whimsical ducks._

 _But with Dr. Burkle he was at more of a loss than he usually was in social situations._

 _“Do you require medical assistance?” he asked._

 _She jumped as if just realizing he was there. He jumped back as well, he did not see a weapon on her but her quite remembered what she had done to Howard._

 _She stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, and he was about to repeat himself when she smiled at him widely and said in a bright excited tone “I don’t know you.”_

 _Sheldon blinked, he did not believe this was the normal protocol when making introductions._

 _But she continued, “No really, you’re not familiar to me at all. You don’t remind me of anyone.”_

 _Sheldon did not know if he had just been insulted, often his limited grasp of sarcasm caused him to miss some of the things his friends attempted to be humorous about. However, Dr. Burkle’s eyes were wide and she looked genuinely happy about the fact that she didn’t know him._

 _Again, he was unsure as to how to proceed._

 _“I’m Dr. Sheldon Cooper,” he finally said._

 _“Winifred Burkle. Everyone calls me Fred. Or they used to anyway. Everyone here calls me “Mad Science Lady” or something. Makes me think of “Crazy Cat Lady”.” She continued smiling at him._

 _It didn’t surprise him that she was aware of the nickname, even if she had gotten it incorrect. People seemed to think sometimes that since you didn’t respond that you were deaf. “Actually, all the gossiping plebeians who allow inconsequential speculation to interfere with their work call you the “Hot Mad Scientist”._

 _She giggled. “Huh. That’s a change, Cordy was always the really attractive one, Queen C, but I suppose she’s been gone for a while.” The smile slipped form her face with a sigh and she turned to her work, inspecting it as if seeing it for the first time. Then she murmured quietly, “I don’t think she’s even here, although it is a possibility…”_

 _He glanced back over at the wall as well, he was acutely aware that he was now even more behind schedule for today but he was still strangely hesitant to leave this conversation; everyone had been abuzz about this woman and although he was above such things he could now admit a certain curiosity. Especially since she seemed to be welcoming towards him where from what he had heard all other attempts at contact had been met with blank stares, being blatantly ignored, or outright violence._

 _“You can’t possibly believe your model drawn by hand without any tools is plotted with any sort of real accuracy,” he said as an attempt at conversation._

 _She simply smiled at his critical remark. “Naw, all this was just relieving the pressure.”_

 _He stared at her blankly, “Please, clarify your statement. I’ve heard the phrase “relieving the pressure” in reference to both urination and sexual intercourse, neither of which apply in this situation. “_

 _She laughed loudly and it slowly petered into giggles “No, no, none of that lately. At least not the sex part.”_

 _“It’s like this,” she began seriously, once she pulled herself together, “I’ve got all these memories in my head and sometimes things trigger them to come to the forefront and try to overwhelm me. The only way I can stay afloat is by grabbing on to something comfortable that I know. For me that’s science.”_

 _Sheldon flitted through many things rapidly in his brain. Escapism was not a foreign concept to him after all since it was something he had used his entire life, especially his childhood, using science fiction and comic books. It did make him wonder about what she was escaping from and how the men in black suits fit in. But for one of the very few times in his life Sheldon didn’t push._

 _“Would you like to see what I’m building?” she asked almost shyly._

 _“I’m running behind schedule,” he said automatically._

 _“Oh,” she bit her lip, “right, of course all this science to do here. Busy, busy.” She smiled tightly at him and he realized that she wanted to spend time with him. A person that he found intriguing, seemed to have an aversion to most other people, and was possibly not of a sub-par intelligence level not just tolerated but wanted to spend time with him. It was a startling notion._

 _He quickly consulted his schedule for today mentally. “I could come by for a totality of 13 minutes after lunch.” He offered._

 _This time her smile was bright and genuine as well as a bit wider than considered normal._

He didn’t tell his friends because he knew they would have all sorts of brainless and inconsequential questions, many of which probably having to do with her physical appearance, that he didn’t feel like being bothered with answering. And since no one had asked him to keep it a secret and he wasn’t lying, there was no problem with facial tics.

As he saw it, as long as they never asked him directly if he knew Fred, as she preferred to be called, his acquaintance (he wasn’t sure if it classified as friendship yet, since he had never given her a questionnaire or made her follow the rules the others did) with her fell under the category of things his friends didn’t know about him. There was plenty under that category.

He walked through the door into her office, this time she was writing on a whiteboard and he knew she was not actively participating in escapism since she looked up as soon as he came in.

Smiling, she said “Hiya, Sheldon.”

“I believe you should be informed it is now being speculated that you are a government spy, simply undercover as a scientist,” he said in lieu of a normal greeting.

“Really now, “ she flopped down in her chair with a giggle. “I suppose that’s better than the malfunctioning cyborg idea last week.”

He paused unsure. Their conversations were abnormally comfortable, seeing as to how they interacted with everybody else and the relatively short time they had known one another. But he was about to bring up something that could prove awkward if everything he had observed from Leonard proved true.

“I received an inter-office e-mail today, informing me of worthless upcoming social event. That is mandatory,” he started. She was simply staring at him now. “It seemed to imply the preference for a “plus one”.” He made air quotes with his fingers.

She was still staring, “Penny will most likely, accompany Leonard. Or the whole group since they are no longer in a relationship, but for show Leonard in particular. But as my only other female” he paused since it had not already been previously verified “friend, I would appreciate your accompaniment.”

She was still staring, eyes wide and slightly panicked.

“Fred?” he asked.

“I, um.” She swallowed hard and then smiled slightly shakily. “Of course I’ll go with you Sheldon. Is it a fancy thing?”

He was surprised by the relief he felt at her acquiesce. “Yes, it is a black tie event. Which means if my current unintentional pattern holds I will somehow end the night drunk and with no pants.”

She let out a surprised laugh, her nervousness forgotten. “Wha-what?”

With an aggrieved sigh, Sheldon went over to her laptop and brought up YouTube.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't really understand the science bits and apologize in advance for any mistakes.


	4. Species Not Applicable

Fred knew even before she agreed to go that this would be a huge deal.

Not because it was Sheldon, she knew that like he said he was only asking her as a friend. Unlike any other guy he really meant it. That was it though, Sheldon was unlike any other person she had ever known and she did not have enough words to describe how wonderful and comforting that was.

Her mind was riddled with landmines, too overfull of memories and so many things and people set them off. Sheldon never did. His utter oddity in all its tactless genius was such a balm to her mind.

He was also her first real friend in this place; still her only friend in this reality if she was honest with herself. K was wonderful and she didn’t thing she would have gotten through those first few months without him. But, he was her self-appointed protector, her father-figure in a way. Not really a friend, somehow beyond that.

So, it wasn’t Sheldon, if Sheldon had wanted her to go with him somewhere by himself, just the two of them, there wouldn’t be nearly as much of a problem. But, a formal party meant going to the mall and finding a dress and shoes, the party itself where you were expected to socialize, actually meeting his friends, and then there was the whole driving thing.

Fred knew Sheldon didn’t drive and although she had automatically been given a drivers license by MIB with all her other new ID papers (she even had one of those nifty official alien identification cards. Under species it said “N/A”. Not Applicable. That tickled her more than was probably healthy.) but with her tendency to be pulled under by memory driving really wasn’t safe for her.

And the people, all those people and things that could trigger her. She didn’t worry about herself. After everything that had happened to her she no longer really had any fear for her own safety. It definitely was not fear of embarrassment either. Fred had always been an odd one and had now for a good portion of her life been labeled as a geek or crazy, long enough to become comfortable with the incredulous stares and disdainful remarks. Add on memories of a God King, and well to put it bluntly, fuck what anyone thinks of her. Writing on walls is no source of embarrassment for her, its something she desperately needs to cope and if anyone has a problem with that she knows that the MIB will have a word with them and they will forget about it in a “flash”.

What worries her is that she might hurt them. She might have a slight idea of the familiar things and people from her own memory that are being triggered, but she has no idea of Illyria’s until she is in the middle of experiencing them. And if someone interrupts her while she is caught up in Illyria’s memories…..

Well, there have been accidents.

Sheldon has so many quirks himself that he doesn’t think she’s crazy which is sweet in a way but utterly utterly wrong. She’s been cracked too many times now not to be broken.

Sometimes she has dreams of a teacup with so many cracks in it that it looks like a mosaic, only held together by an eerie blue glow. When she wakes up from those dreams she doesn’t write on the walls, she takes off all her clothes and searches frantically for blue. Worrying over veins and imagining things that she prays aren’t there. (But even if they aren’t on her skin, she knows they’re in her brain. How much of yourself is your memory? If she has the memories of being Illyria does that mean that Illyria is still in here with her?)

 _The first time this occurred to her was the fifth day of her “stay” at MIB._

 _They found her frantically bashing her head into the wall after only a few minutes. She could not stand the thought of that damn blue parasite inside of her brain any longer. Inside of her. Being her._

 _She had to. GET. IT. OUT._

 _This was also the day that they found out normal sedatives did not work on her, J cold cocking her however did._

  
Fred thought of all of this, when Sheldon asked. Knew the stress and hassle it would cause her (the possible injury to others) and still agreed because he was her friend.

And if there was one thing she wanted to remember about her life in the last reality, it was how much friends were worth.

  
****

Finding and getting to a store ended up being less of a problem then she thought. A little bit of searching online found a boutique where she could probably find a dress and shoes for the evening in one fell swoop. It might be slightly more expensive then the mall but even before she started at CalTech, MIB had given her a nice little bank account. And MIB, or K at least, wasn’t stingy. And having to run into less people was definitely worth spending the extra dough.

Fred also found that wearing sunglasses, earbuds (not actually connected to anything), and staring intently at a notepad (blank, for now but important to have just in case) were very good deterrents of possible conversations with anyone who saw her walk across campus, the man in the cab she called to take her to the store, and any salespeople who tried to approach her.

Her first unexpected problem came when she actually looked up at all the fancy expensive dresses and realized she had no idea what to wear.

Fred had never been particularly into fashion; always the science geek (occasionally the stoner). Last time she had gotten all dressed up had been when the gang had gone to the ballet. She hadn’t told the others that she had taken ballet as a child, and even though like most of their evenings it had ended with odd curses and bloodshed, the whole night was magical to her in an entirely different way.

She stepped forward hesitantly and touched a deep red satin dress and let herself remember _Charles fingers on her face. He looked up at her with such tenderness and awe despite the pain she knew he must be in from his wound in the sword fight. She had never felt more beautiful than the way she saw herself in his eyes at that moment. He leaned in for a kiss and she met him half way without a thought._

Fred smiled to herself, moving on to a different dress, not all of her memories were bad ones.


	5. Batman Cufflinks and Group Hallucinations, Just Like Prom

Penny would freely admit that she loved this sort of thing. Getting to spend time getting all dressed up to go to a fancy party, free nice drinks, maybe dance a little. The type of dancing that didn’t involve bumping and grinding or some strange guy trying to feel her up.

The fact that she’s going as the date to a whole group of guys doesn’t bother her in the slightest. Feels a bit like prom, a whole big group getting all dressed up and awkwardly sharing a car to the school. (The fact that this school was a prestigious college and they work there doing important research doesn’t really change the matter.)

She knows now that Leonard and her are way better off not as a couple and is proud that she was able to break things off and still remain good friends. She kinda thinks that one of the reasons their relationship lingered as long as it did is part of her was afraid that without her in as “Leonard’s girlfriend” soon enough she wouldn’t be allowed in their circle or “landing party” as it was. Which is funny in a way, because she knows that back in high school she wouldn’t have given these guys the time of day. God, how stupid was she.

Her friends now might be utter geeks, and yes Howard is a horndog. And yes, Raj still is insanely proud of himself when he gets one word out in her presence. But, they are geniuses; they challenge her and are always there for her in their awkward (Raj), blundering (Leonard), blunt (Sheldon), caustic (Sheldon, again), sometimes creepy (Howard) ways. With them she isn’t afraid to be herself; Junior Rodeo, Hello Kitty, Age of Conan and all.

She could never say that about her previous friends.

Now, between work at the Cheesecake Factory and the occasional try at an acting spot, her time is mostly intertwined with theirs. Halo on Wednesday, old sci-fi movie marathons, laundry on Saturday…..

Penny can’t remember the last time her life was this stable.

So here she is on the couch, waiting for her boys to finish getting ready. And wasn’t it ironic that the girl was the one that was finished first.

She had already seen Sheldon once, he was wearing what seemed to be the same suit as the night he won The Chancellor’s Award. Penny was pretty sure he had destroyed it after his woke up pants-less the morning after his drunken speech, but it wouldn’t surprise her if this is an exact duplicate. He probably already labeled it in his head as his optimal attire for formal events or something.

The thought that she helped him pick out something that he will now most likely wear for the rest of his life makes her feel oddly proud. At least a black suit won’t go out of style. His only change was a Batman tie, but if you were far away or didn’t know Sheldon you could just pretend it was a yellow and black pattern.

He had just run back in his room for the matching Batman cufflinks, which she was not surprised he had, when there was a knock at the door.

She jumped up to answer it expecting Raj or Howard.

That was not who was at the door.

“Hiya, is Sheldon ready?” the woman asked with a tight nervous smile her fingers clutching at the strap of a large leather bag that seems slightly out of place with her gorgeous dress.

For a minute Penny thought her brain exploded. Sheldon had a date? With another person? And this woman? She was beautiful wearing a floor length teal halter dress with a plunging neckline, her hair upswept but with dark curls escaping. And…and she was biting her lip, eyes staring fixedly at the wall. God, Penny knows she can be a spaz sometimes but she didn’t mean to just stare at this woman and make her feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah, yeah come on in. He just went in his room, I’m sure he’ll be out in a minute.”

The woman smiled tightly again and entered the apartment carefully walking a few steps into the living room before stopping, her eyes darting around for a brief second before staring fixedly back on her bag.

Penny simply leaned back against the door and stared. Was she in shock? Had she had a blow to the head and was now hallucinating Sheldon with a girlfriend?

She needed to get better hallucinations.

“Who was at the do-“, Leonard stopped mid-sentence and stared.

So, not going crazy. Unless, it was a group hallucination……and she really needed to watch a good romantic comedy to clean out some of that sci-fi movie stuff in her head it was starting to effect her thinking.

The woman’s eyes darted over to him. She gave a slight nod, “Dr. Hofstadter”.

Leonard swallowed hard, eyes wide “Dr-Dr. Bur…” he stuttered.

Her smile turned surprisingly wicked, “I believe your lunch table and most of the campus prefers to call me “The Hot Mad Scientist of CalTech”.

Penny’s eyes went wide and she fought down a laugh as she watched Leonard blush and splutter as he tried to come up with a response.

This was, of course, when Sheldon came out of his bedroom.

“I found them with Marvel memorabilia accessories instead of DC. I don’t know when I’ve gotten so disorganized.” He tugged at his sleeves triumphantly and looked up noticing the frozen tableau of staring in the room.

Or, knowing Sheldon, not really noticing the awkwardness but that there was a person here that normally wasn’t.

“Fred,” he walked up to her. “Research I have done into proper protocol when taking a woman to a formal event suggest I should start the evening by telling you that you “look wonderful””. He then looked her over critically, “Regardless of the lack of importance appearance holds, you are aesthetically pleasing by both commonly held western standards and personal preferences.”

At his words, the woman, Fred, relaxed and Penny hadn’t been aware how tense she had been until she did.

“Thank you. You clean up nice yourself, Sheldon.” Fred said with a surprisingly wide genuine smile.

“My hygiene is always impeccable, I have not changed my routine in the slightest,” Sheldon responded automatically.

“Now, now, Sheldon,” Fred tilted her head playfully, “ I know that you know what that phrase means.”  
All Penny and Leonard could do was watch as they interacted, utterly stunned by this unexpected occurrence.

Leonard seemed completely shocked by the fact that Sheldon had a date. Sheldon with a girl. A woman really that it seemed was gossiped about quite a bit at their work. Even she remembered hearing something about this woman tasering Howard.

Good on her.

Penny was able to step away from the fact that it was Sheldon for a second though and just see them together. They actually made a very striking couple. All dark hair and eyes, long limbs and sharp angles. Elegant in their formal clothing.

Looking down at her own purple cocktail dress that hit at her knees she bit her lip suddenly feeling very young and immature. Her own previous thoughts about prom seemed even more significant.

Penny knew that she was pretty and sexy, but elegant? It just wasn’t quite in the budget.

She came back to the conversation abruptly when she heard Leonard start talking again.

“But I thought we were all going together?” he asked.

“No, you never inquired as to my plans. You simply assumed and I did not correct your ignorance.” Sheldon replied swiftly. “Dr. Burkle and I will be going now before Koothrappali and Wolowitz arrive, we will see you at this mandatory pointless sham of a social gathering.”

At his side Fred giggled completely unbothered by his scathing honesty, “And on that cheery note…”

Sheldon stared at her uncomprehendingly.

Fred smiled up at him fondly, “Lets go.”

“I already said that.” They both walked to the door and stopped, staring at her.

Right, she hadn’t moved from leaning against the front door watching this Twilight Zone episode unfold before her.

God, again, really brain with the sci-fi stuff. Romantic comedy marathon this weekend.

“Penny,” Sheldon said slowly as if talking to a particularly slow child. “I believe you are aware that it is considered polite to remove yourself from the entrance way of a room when others need to walk through it.”

She scrambled out of the way, blushing unable to think of her usual response in her stunned state and continued to just listen to them as they left the apartment.

“Who is driving us?”

“J.”

“Ah, the man who called me a giant praying mantis.”

“J, was just teasin’. Anyway, if K was giving us a ride he would probably ask about your intentions or somethin’ silly.”

“If he was aware of the mating habits of mantodea in captivity he would realize that calling one such is not a matter of frivolity….”

Sheldon’s voice got dimmer as they got further down the hall.

Leonard and her turned away from the door and stared at each other for a long moment.

“What the frak.”


	6. Friday Pajamas

Naturally Sheldon’s inadvertent prophecy would prove to be true.

Neither Fred nor Sheldon ordered alcoholic drinks. Fred because it was something she had yet to test and a crowded room with lots of strange people wasn’t the best place if something went wrong.

Sheldon because he didn’t drink, although for someone who didn’t drink it was really startling how often he got publicly drunk.

It was, in all honesty, a simple mistake. The lady who took their group's table was so flustered by Sheldon’s precise instructions that she mixed up their drinks when she brought them out. It didn’t help that two were Cuba Libres (one virgin, one slutty) and one was lemonade while another only had lemonade as a component. Once everyone's drinks were set in front of them it was stuck in her mind and she continued to bring them refills throughout the night.

So Sheldon and Fred got progressively drunker, poor Raj was still mournfully mute, and Penny was staring at her drink wondering why she hadn’t at least started to get that nice warm feeling yet. At least, until the singing started.

The group was already quite familiar with Sheldon’s spontaneous musicality while impaired. Fred’s came as a surprise. It might not have if they had known that in her previous reality she had been the best of friends with a green empathic demon who owned a karaoke bar. Then again that, in itself, might have been surprising.

They opened with the Element Song that Sheldon had already made so infamous and followed it by singing the digits of pi to what seemed to be the tune of Mary Had A Little Lamb. After that came songs from School House Rock sung in various languages (Sheldon - Russian and Fred - Latin) and it might have continued into the night or until they passed out into a drunken stupor since no one was quite brave enough to try and approach or stop them.

But, on the next song Fred switched to a language that had even Sheldon scrunching up his face in confusion and a man in a black suit who had previously blended in with the crowd (and watched with amusement) stepped forward and called for everyone's attention. He held up a silver, pen-like device and…

Nothing strange happened and everyone went back to enjoying their evening.

Sheldon and Fred were no longer in the ballroom.

  
****

  
There was no singing on the ride over to the apartment. This was declared a rule of the car by J and even drunk Sheldon respected rules.

After all drunk Sheldon logic was like regular Sheldon logic only somehow fundamentally skewed.

Sheldon insisted that she walk him back up to his apartment since she had been the one to pick him up. He was determined to follow the proper protocol he had researched which included returning the date to their place of residence. (He seemed unaware or uncaring of the fact that he had somewhere along the line placed himself in the feminine role.)

They made it up the flights of stairs with much tripping and running into walls. Fred’s heels were ditched in one of Mrs. Grossinger's flower pots on the 2nd floor and it was much smoother going after that although Sheldon was aghast at all of the dirt and germs she was accumulating on her bare feet and proceeded to tell her about it in great detail. Much to her amusement.

When they got to apartment 4A Sheldon stared at the doorknob with intense concentration befitting a man with two PHDs. He tried three keys before he got the door open. (This was only relatively sad because the first one had been the correct key and he had been trying it upside down the first time.)

“Wellllll” Fred leaned in the doorway and looked around in a sort of dazed curiosity since she hadn’t allowed herself to the last time. “I suppose it’s time for me to skedaddle back on down to the car.”

“You can’t drive!” Sheldon said in a loud scandalized tone turning back around to her. “You” he pointed at her accusingly “are drunk.”

“I’m not driving; J is. ‘Member?”

“Have you seen the multitude of statistics on accidents caused by drunk drivers in this country alone?” he turned around again and continued talking as if she hadn’t said anything.

She stumbled into the apartment letting the door close behind her. She ran into the couch and looked at it accusingly. “I don’t even drive normally.”

He continued mumbling to himself as he wandered into his room, only running into the doorway twice before he successful crossed it. She meandered after him; there was something wrong about this whole situation. If tranquilizers didn’t work how was she even able to get drunk? Was it a matter of what Illyria saw as a threat to her……

The thought drifted away even before it was even fully formed.

He turned to look at her. “You’re in my room. No one is allowed to be in my room.”

Fred tilted her head in confusion, “You just got through sayin’ I couldn’t go.”

Sheldon thought for a moment staring at her blankly and then startled pointing at her again. “No driving!”

“No-pe.” She said popping the P.

He went back to rummaging in his dresser.

“Watcha lookin’ for?”

“Friday pajamas.” He murmured distractedly.

She looked down at her fancy dress. “What am I going to wear? I can’t sleep in this. Well I can but it would get all scrunchy.”

“I do not believe that “scrunchy” is a word” Sheldon said before giving a whoop of triumph and turning around and happily showing her his green plaid Friday pajamas.

Fred was suitably impressed.

He inspected her clothing, “No, your formal wear is not apt sleeping attire.” He pulled his pajamas close to his chest possessively, seeming to think about the issue very hard. “We will have to share.” He proclaimed, grudgingly handing out for her the bottom half.

“I can’t get my own pair?” Fred asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

“It is Friday night and these are Friday pajamas” he explained slowly. “There are of course back up Friday pajamas in case of emergency but this doesn’t qualify as such. I can show you the list of requirements for an emergency situation if you like.”

“Naw, but shouldn’t I get the top part?” she asked scrunching up her nose in confusion and still not taking the offered piece of clothing from his hand.

“No, I always put my pajama top on first because the top is typically associated with first except in such cases as totem polls, contrary to popular belief which assumes the opposite to be true.”

Fred squinted as if examining an equation for flaws but it was Sheldon so he was probably right, she nodded to herself and reached behind herself and unfastened her dress. It pooled at her feet leaving her standing unabashedly in front of him in only her bra and panties.

Sheldon blinked slowly. There was a lot of skin visible. “Your epidermis is showing,” he said in a serious tone.

After a beat they both laughed uproariously. “It’s not”, he gasped for breath, “even really funny.”

“I know.” Fred tried to catch her breath leaning against him for balance.

“It’s the true medical name for the upper layer of cells that make up the skin, the only comedy is from people's common misconceptions as to what is being referred to .” he continued mirthfully, not noticing the contact that would usually bother him.

Fred took a deep breath getting her giggles under control. “Yu-uP” again popping the P on the end with great relish.

Sheldon looked down absentmindedly following the way her bra’s black strap looped around her neck with his eyes, “Penny had a bra of similar construction. I was unsure of how to categorize it when I was organizing her living quarters. She seemed to take great offense that I was “going through her panty drawer”.”

“Yeah, girls don’t like that.” She said with a smile finally taking the offered pants from him. Her first attempt to put them on caused her to tilt onto the bed where afterwards she had enough balance to get her legs in the holes successfully.

“Ta da!” she pointed at her now plaid clad legs.

He was suitably impressed.

“But now you’re not dressed for bed, Sheldon.” Fred pointed out.

Sheldon looked down at himself, it was true, he was still completely dressed in his suit holding his Friday pajama top. How had that happened, he was supposed to be getting ready for bed. He was already so far behind schedule.

“I change my clothing in the bathroom,” he told Fred. “Usually, I would have showered as well but I am afraid it would be unsafe to continue with my usual nighttime bathing regimen given my impaired state.”

“Alright,” she replied easily.

When he returned an indefinite amount of time later after a fight with his Batman cufflinks, an epic battle with his tie that almost ended with Sheldon Cooper the brightest mind of this generation accidentally committing suicide by way of DC memorabilia (not the first time), wrestling both his shoes off (one flipped up and was lost forever never to be heard from again in the lands of “The Shower”) and struggling with various buttons he found Fred half asleep in the middle of his bed.

“No one is allowed in my bed.” He murmured staring down at the half naked woman in his clothes. She didn’t seem to hear him.

“Hey.” He poked her shoulder, carefully staying out of punching range (memories of Penny’s right hook when awoken were deeply imprinted in his brain). “Hey,” he poked her again “Hey Fred," her shoulder received a third poke, "you can’t sleep in my spot. That’s my spot. It is optimally conditioned for me to achieve my greatest sleeping experience.”

Fred frowned without opening her eyes, grabbed the offending finger that was poking her, and pulled him down onto the bed next to her with surprising strength.

“But Fred, I couldn’t possibly sleep…” she snuggled up to him and although he usually disliked touching he felt so very warm and heavy. Warm and heavy and sleepy. Too much so to be expected to move. Besides it was Fred and she was probably relatively sanitary. He rearranged himself so that he was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.

As he drifted off to sleep Sheldon absentmindedly nuzzled her wavy brown hair.

“Soft kitty……” he sighed.


	7. Intolerable Veisalgia

So, blow to the head looking more and more like a likely scenario.

More likely than her using her spare key to get into the apartment and “borrow” some milk and finding Sheldon wearing the top part of a pair of a pajamas and that Fred girl wearing a bra and the bottoms (rolled up a number of times at the waist to deal with the excess length) sitting at the counter eating oatmeal.

And what was it about Sheldon and pantslessness?

Maybe she did give a little sound of surprise and jump back against the door (she should probably just claim this door and be done with it, Sheldon had already practically claimed her apartment door after all) but she wasn’t expecting anybody to be up yet. They had had quite a night after all.

She couldn’t wait to see if one of those techie people at the party had it up on YouTube yet.

“Ahhhh. Would it be possible to lower the decibel of your screeching? My veisalgia is intolerable.” Sheldon said in an oddly muted voice grabbing the sides of his head “I can practically feel the vasopressin inhibition.”

Ok, so, _that_ was more incomprehensible than usual, even for Sheldon-speak.

Fred looked up from the mug she was holding with both hands and smiled wanly at her, “He’s got a hangover.”

“You couldn’t just say that?” Penny shot at him in exasperation.

“I did ‘just say that’” he muttered glaring at her (the effect was slightly weakened by his bloodshot eyes and obviously rough appearance) before pushing his oatmeal bowl carefully to the side and putting his head down on the table.

“Of course ya did” Fred said patting the top of his head with a sort of condescending fondness. He grumbled but didn’t move away from the contact.

Sheldon being touched and not freaking out. Sheldon and a woman eating breakfast after apparently spending the night together. Sheldon getting drunk and singing at a formal event again. Sheldon and a date looking gorgeous and elegant together.

So yeah, blow to the head. She was probably in the hospital right now hopped up on drugs imaging all of this (Good job brain! That sounded more soap opera than sci-fi.).

But really? Why were all of her hallucinations about Sheldon? She would have expected a little something more dramatic and exciting for her morphine-coma dream. She really needed to get out more.

And she needed coffee. It just felt like it was way too damn early for this. She poured some of their coffee that was already made (what Fred was drinking, she guessed) and stole some of Sheldon’s milk from the fridge.

He turned his head a bit so that one of his eyes could glare at her over his arm and she thought that she heard him mutter “milk thief”, but he did nothing else to try and stop her.

With a tired sigh she sat herself on one of the remaining bar stools and happily drank in some of her stolen beverage.

After communing with her morning caffeine for several moments she glanced over at the other woman at the table again. She seemed to be concentrating on the liquid in her cup as well.

Deciding to be friendly, she smiled and stuck out her hand, “Hi, I’m Penny.”

Fred looked up kind of startled but took her hand with a slight smile, “Kinda guessed that from the conversation, my names Fred. Well Winifred really, but everyone just calls me Fred.”

“Or CalTech’s Hot Scientist?” she teased her.

“The Mad Hot Scientist of CalTech” Sheldon mumbled into his arms.

Both girls stared at him for a moment before catching each other’s eyes and snorting with laughter.

Then everyone fell into silence, the sort of comfortable Saturday morning, nothing to do (but maybe had too much to drink last night), still not one hundred percent awake silence. Maybe after this she would just go curl back up in her bed and doze for a few hours. That sounded really good right now.  
There was nothing on her schedule today until laundry with Sheldon this evening anyway.

Leonard suddenly stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom without looking up at the kitchen area. Penny merely smiled in to her remaining coffee and waited for when he would take in the scene that had surprised her so much that morning.

She heard the toilet flush and there was a pause before he opened the door “Sheldon, you shoe was in the shower.” He looked up.

And dropped the shoe.

Penny glanced to the side and saw that Fred was biting her lip trying not to laugh as well.

Leonard looked at them all at his kitchen counter, in various states of undress, with wide stunned eyes behind his glasses. He turned to the one person who technically should be there this morning. “Wanna fill me in, Sheldon?”

Sheldon slowly pushed himself up off the table and turned to look at his roommate full on. “We had unplanned sexual intercourse after unintentionally imbibing too many drinks of an alcoholic nature.” Sheldon said blandly with a straight face.

Leonard made an odd choking noise. Penny was pretty sure she was too, but from trying to keep back her laughter; she’d be surprised if Fred didn’t bite through her lip.

“Bazinga!” Sheldon exclaimed pointing at him in triumph tempered by hangover.

Leonard just stared blankly not quite awake enough to deal with this level of odd situation. “Wait, what? All three of you?”

It was just too much, she hadn’t even considered the fact that she was now part of the weirdness that he would be walking in on. Penny started laughing and heard Fred laughing beside her. Both of them were cackling so hard that they were leaning against the table and each other just for balance.

Sheldon spun around to face them, still pointing “Too loud!” he said in a weird sort of yelling whisper voice, holding his head with his other hand. Leonard continued to just stare at the three of them in stunned shock.

Which just made them laugh even more and they fell off their bar stools and onto the floor.

“I must be hallucinating,” Leonard muttered blinking a few times. “I’m going back to bed.”

That set Penny off again. “Blow to the head,” she said trying to calm herself down. She sat up with her back against the cabinets.

“Malfunctioning cyborg,” Fred responded breathing deeply mimicking her pose beside her.

“Hot Mad Scientist of CalTech,” they chorused, glancing at each other and giggling again.

As their giggles settled down the smile stuck on Penny’s face. She had missed this, having female friends who you could just be silly with.

“I believe, given your actions, that once Leonard stops doubting his own mental stability he will start doubting yours.” Penny looked up (and up and up and up) to find Sheldon standing in front of them (still without pants).

“Your one to talk, Sheldon,” Penny sniped back.

“I’m not crazy,” Sheldon said looking affronted, “my mother had me tested.”

Penny caught Fred’s eye and was gone again, the two of them laughing (like crazy) on Sheldon and Leonard’s kitchen floor.


	8. When You Try To Assume

With a last deep breath Fred got herself under control.

“Woo,” Penny sighed tiredly beside her leaning heavily against the cabinets, “now I really need a nap.”

Smiling Fred put her hands up to Sheldon.

He looked down at her in confusion.

“Help me up,” Fred said.

“You are perfectly able to stand under your own compulsion. Besides, you’ve been on the floor, your hands have become soiled,” Sheldon said scrunching up his nose.

“You can wash your hands afterwards,” she reasoned ignoring the first part “plus it’s your floor; not as dirty as most.”

He still looked unconvinced.

“Up, Sheldon,” she repeated and with a final sigh he grabbed her hands and pulled her off the floor.

Penny cleared her throat and they both turned to look at her. She raised her hands as well. When he continued to stare blankly she pouted.

“My hands are already dirty,” he muttered and helped her up as well.

“Are you calling me dirty?” Penny said in an offended tone but Fred could hear the amusement behind it as well.

“Yes,” Sheldon said simply before turning back to Fred. “You haven’t seen her apartment yet. The level of filth she lets accumulate in her kitchen is abysmal.”

Then he walked over to the sink and thoroughly washed his hands. Penny grabbed the dirty dishes off the counter and brought them over to him, both of them sniping back and forth the entire time.

Fred smiled as she watched them, she was really enjoying herself and didn’t want to leave. But, she knew, that she would have to get back to CalTech eventually.

To her little room. By herself. With just her mind and her memories. (And Illyria. _No. No. NO._ )

Her smile faded and she cleared her throat awkwardly causing them both to look at her, “Um, I guess I should get goin’ back.”

Sheldon’s eyes went wide. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve got to go back sometime, Sheldon.” (Oh god, she really really hoped not) She smiled at him gently trying to keep back her own thoughts. She was doing so well.

Which is why she had to leave. Now.

“Well you can’t go out like that,” Penny pointed out.

Fred looked down at her attire which consisted of a bra and Sheldon’s "Friday Pajama" pants. She had honestly forgotten.

She bit her lip, “I guess I’ll just change back into the dress form last night.” Fred really wasn’t looking forward to it though; the way to avoid attention on campus wasn’t walking around in broad daylight in rumpled formal wear.

With no shoes. Because she really could not remember where her shoes had gotten to. If one of _Sheldon’s_ had ended up in his shower, she had no idea where hers could be since she was much less discerning than he was.

“You can borrow some of my clothes,” Penny said brightly.

Oh, Penny. She knew the woman was trying to help but she just didn’t know. Going into another apartment, new surroundings; so many new things to trigger her. Courting danger when she had had such a lovely time and could just start to feel her mind be strained as it stopped being clouded by alcohol or muted by fatigue.

But Penny represented something else, she was the only person other than K and Sheldon that Fred had felt any sort of connection to. (The only people outside her head that seemed real.)

A possible friend.

“Sure,” Fred replied after what she realized was probably too long of a pause.

“Good,” Penny said decisively heading towards the door, “we’ll just go over to my” she smirked over her shoulder at Sheldon, “dirty, dirty apartment and get you some clothes.”

  
***

  
“It isn’t really as bad as Sheldon was saying,” Penny called through her bathroom door.

She bit her lip for a moment. “Just ignore the shirt in the sink. It had a really bad stain in it and I was trying to soak it a bit.” She paused. “And the clothes on the floor….”

“…and in the tub.”

Damn. She really wasn’t making the best of impressions was she? Penny tapped her foot nervously. “Its normally not that bad, it’s just been a really hectic week at work. With the party last night I haven’t had a chance to pick anything up…”

Fred opened the door and said quietly, “It’s fine Penny. Thanks for letting me borrow a change of clothes.”

They were around the same size, although Fred was a little taller and Penny had bit more curves so she had decided to play it safe with a pair of drawstring pants and a t-shirt.

Fred was staring at the pajama bottoms of Sheldon’s she now was holding in both hands twisting the plaid material nervously, not looking at anything else.

“No problem,” Penny said as cheerfully as possible. She had noticed the other woman seemed to get more agitated the further she got from the boys’ apartment and Penny tried to keep up a constant stream of talk to make her feel more comfortable.

But, she kept just touching the side of her head and staring at the floor. Whenever she did look at Penny she would smile tightly and look back away quickly. Penny wondered if Fred was just feeling delayed effects of her own hangover and maybe she should stop talking so much.

Honestly though, Penny knew that she wanted Fred to like her. Fred was this weird balance of being one of the guys (working at CalTech, intimidatingly smart, and able to decode Sheldon-speak (and possibly Sheldon’s girlfriend – and that felt so weird to even >i>think)) and one of the girls (down to Earth, obviously having a quirky sense of humor that she could relate to and looked great in formal wear). She was this odd middle ground for her and, well, it sounded incredibly pre-school to say, but, Penny wanted to be friends with her.

And she had probably just been staring again. Yeah, great way to make someone feel more comfortable.

“So,” Penny said as casually as possible, turning to lead her back through her apartment. “Are you from Texas, too?,” she asked the first thing that popped into her head.

Fred giggled at the out of the blue question, “Yeah, I seem to keep running into people from the ‘ole Lone Star state. I guess you can recognize it from me a lot more than Sheldon though, you don’t hear his twang much. What about you?”

“Nebraska actually,” Penny said, “made my way out here to California to be a movie star. Like everyone else I suppose.” She smiled a bit self-deprecatingly, “Haven’t got any big parts yet.”

Fred was squinting as if in pain but tried to continue the conversation, “I had a friend who was doin’ that. Wanted to be an actress and all. She was one of the strongest people I’ve ever met,” her voice was strained and Penny was surprised she hadn’t torn Sheldon’s pants from the grip she had on them. She wondered if the woman she was talking about had died recently or something, from Fred's obvious upset, use of the past tense and all.

“I work mostly at the Cheesecake Factory really,” she admitted opening her door. “I can’t make money finding hordes of treasure as Queen Penelope after all,” she tried to joke as she walked into the hallway. First, she noticed the strange quite after her comment and thought maybe Fred just hadn’t gotten the reference - not all geniuses were game nerds she knew.

But then she turned and saw Fred stumble back until her back hit the wall then slide down it until she got to the floor. She dropped the piece of clothing she had been clutching so tightly and curled into a ball, one of her hands went to her head clawed into her hair.

“Fred?,” Penny asked feeling shaken. She had no idea what had just happened. Tentatively she reached out to the other woman to try and comfort her in some way but at the last moment she stopped. She knew Sheldon didn’t like to be touched most of the time, what if doing something normal like putting her arm around her just made things worse.

That was it - Sheldon!

She stumbled in her hurry over the last few steps to the other apartment door and knocked rapidly.

Sheldon opened the door looking pinched and obviously still hung-over, ready to yell ( _explain_ ) to her again why she shouldn't be so loud. Then he saw Fred and did an about-face back into the apartment, closing the door on her.

Penny scrunched up her face affronted, about to knock and yell for him again (and give him a piece of her mind for running off) when he was suddenly back. The leather satchel she remembered Fred having from last night opened in one hand.

He approached Fred carefully, like you would a cornered wounded animal (and part of her mind wondered how far off that actually was). There was something in his hand and Penny was relieved.

Oh, she thought, Fred just needed medication or something. She would be fine in a minute and then….

Without touching her in any other way, Sheldon reached out slowly and placed a black sharpie in Fred’s hand (the one that wasn’t tangled in her own hair) and Penny decided then and there that she just needed to stop trying to assume anything.

Fred rose to her feet, spun to face the wall, pulled the cap of the marker off with her teeth letting it drop to the floor, and started writing.

Penny’s breath caught. She had done it all in one smooth, startlingly fast, uninterrupted movement.

Sheldon backed away and came to stand next to her. For a while all they could both do was watch – the other woman’s eyes were dazed but her handwriting seemed precise and quick.

She noticed Sheldon fishing around Fred’s bag again. He pulled out a camera phone and took a picture of what she was doing.

“If the modus operandi has remained the same as usual, K will send a team to re-paint the wall,” Sheldon said. He paused for a moment and glanced over at the yellow tape that crisscrossed not too far away, “I wonder if they might deem it fitting to fix the elevator while they’re here.”

Penny tore her eyes away from the girl she had been giggling with not that long ago who was now writing the sort of equations she usually only saw on the boys’ whiteboards. “Sheldon,” she said taken aback by his attitude (and not in the way she usually was), “this isn’t normal.”

“Of course she’s not normal. I haven’t been able to test her in a controlled setting but I am quite certain Dr. Burkle is of adequately genius level intelligence,” Sheldon said haughtily.

Penny turned her head to him slowly, “No, Sheldon, honey. This isn’t normal in a _bad_ way, not in your guys’ sorta crazy way. Something is _wrong_ with her,” she said gesturing at Fred, trying to make him understand.

He narrowed his eyes, “It is simply, an admittedly, rather exaggerated form of escapism. You have been guilty of that yourself in the past,” he hissed at her.

Penny ignored the jibe and looked at him sadly. “Sheldon,” she whispered glancing back at Fred again.

With a sigh he seemed to deflate slightly and looked away from her, focusing on a bit of wall that Fred hadn’t written on yet instead. “From my observations Fred suffers from flashbacks, post traumatic stress disorder, disassociation and depression. As I have not fully studied psychology I cannot give you a true evaluation of her current condition,” he reported in a dull monotone.

Penny breathed deeply through her nose and tried to process all of that, “Is she getting help or something?,” she asked finally.

“Fred’s,” he paused as if looking for the correct term “handlers are aware of her situation and seem to deem her coping mechanisms sufficient.” Sheldon himself did not seem entirely pleased by this.

“But-," before she could continue her little normal hallway suddenly had many more people in it with suits than it usually did. Well, it usually didn’t have any, but that was beside the point.

One of them, an older gentleman, took Sheldon aside talking for a while. At one point he glanced at her and Sheldon looked over too, but then he shook his head and gestured at the elevator questioningly instead.

Fred didn’t seem to notice the commotion but came out of her trance like state on her own about 10 minutes after they had arrived. Very swiftly she was ushered away by the older man, the wall she had written on was extensively photographed, re-painted the exact shade of the rest, and somehow aged with this bizarre futuristic looking silver device to look like its surrounding by the rest of the team.

They were all gone less than 3 minutes after the marker had dropped limply from Fred’s fingers and joined the cap (and Sheldon's "Friday Pajama Pants" - did they need a TM by now?) on the floor.

Penny watched it all wide eyed, afraid to even breathe.

With the paint still drying on the wall Sheldon turned to her obviously considering something and asked, “You are still occasionally monetarily deficient, correct?”


End file.
